


cygnus

by diwata



Series: the eleventh hour [4]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 01:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11325390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diwata/pseuds/diwata
Summary: “I look just like her,” Tina lies, “the way she looked before she died.”“So she was beautiful, then,” Leta murmurs.A look into Tina's imprisonment.





	cygnus

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is by no means a character study piece, but it is an extension of this head canon universe. These were a few scenes I imagined for one hand, one heart and lonely water. I had planned to show them during Leta's trial, but decided against including the trial altogether. I hope you enjoy this short supplementary piece!

i. but it was an illusion after all

The holding cell is empty. Four white walls surround her. There are neither windows nor doors, yet the room is always bright. It is a well-maintained illusion, but it is an illusion nonetheless, just like her disguise. It is Leta who discovers her changing, her silken slip betraying her only mistake. “You had a scar, here,” she informs Tina, running her index finger along the ridges of her spine dangerously. Leta casts _Revelio_ next. Her platinum curls recede and are replaced by short, mousy locks. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Leta says. She sounds genuine. There is no trace of malice in her voice. Her full lips are turned upwards into a mischievous smile. “Porpentina Esther Goldstein.”

ii. I like your little dot with the flames around it

Leta’s composure and her obedience are well-practiced, though Tina catches her at the moment before the breaking point. She sees Leta, dazed and confused, questioning the dried blood beneath her fingertips. Sometimes, Tina has to explain the circumstances to her. “It’s mine,” Tina reveals, and Leta shudders.

“Why would I do that to you?” she demands. Tina shrugs, toying with the ends of Leta’s hair. She feels younger like this, like a lost child. These episodes last for hours or days on end. Tina never knows which Leta she’ll receive in her cell at the beginning of each day, but she entertains both equally, revealing the small parts of herself that are raw and the parts of herself that are healing.

“Tell me about your mother,” Leta inquires suddenly. Tina bites down on her tongue so hard that she draws blood. She gags at the copper taste that fills her mouth before spitting it onto the floor. Leta smiles at her and wipes her mouth gently. Like Newt, she has freckles. Tina’s eyes dart across her face, mapping the constellations and imagining what the night sky might look like outside. Her mouth waters. “ _Imperio_ ,” whispers Leta into her ear, and an aura of calm washes over her.

Tina resists, because that is the only thing she knows how to do. Her body and mind are worn from the exposure, from the immaculate white walls that threaten to suffocate her. She tries to call an image of her mother to the surface, but can’t. She remembers her willowy figure and dark brown hair, but can’t recall her face. Her heart clenches painfully. “I look just like her,” Tina lies, “the way she looked before she died.”

Leta looks at her, dubious. She leans forward again, inspecting her face. Tina traces the shape of a swan and names the freckle at the corner of her mouth Deneb. She stares at that corner for awhile, compelling, as if it is harboring a secret in daylight. “So she was beautiful, then,” Leta murmurs. She inches closer. Tina enjoys her warmth and the softness of her lips.

iii. how they burned

She is not excessively cruel most of the time, which Tina appreciates. Often, Leta merely sits in the room with her, on the floor, gazing at her elegantly like a silver idol. Night and day don’t exist in the holding cell, but Tina feels her body eating away at itself. It is the only proof that time subsists, though she may fail to soon.

Tina knows the beginning of the day only by Leta’s arrival. She brings her gifts from the outside world: a handful of soil, buds of rosemary, a solitary butterfly. She collects them in this empty space. They become her companions. “Are you courting me?” Tina asks lightly, tone exposing a flicker of hope.

Leta laughs and the sound reminds Tina of broken glass. For the first time in weeks, Tina _feels_ something: terror. The rush of fear is dizzying. “I was pregnant,” Leta divulges, “but I lost them. The twins.” Leta’s magic crackles in the air, sparks of it singeing the wings of the butterfly. Tina watches helplessly as the fire spreads across the room, destroying everything in its wake. “They’re dead,” says Leta, “like your Auror friends.” The flames lick at her ankles and Tina tries not to scream. “You’ll be dead, too, soon enough.” Tina looks at her reflection in Leta’s dark, wide eyes. It is the look of an animal before slaughter. She does not know which spell Leta casts that tears her in two. She only knows the pain, the smoke, and the smell of burning flesh. “You can end this,” Leta begs her, “if you disclose the details of your mission.”

Tina grimaces and coughs, wet with blood. She remembers her mother with excruciating clarity. It stings to breathe. She has loved the best and worst parts of Leta and now holds them in her throat. They chill her, in spite of the flames, and stretch throughout her chest like a malevolent spirit. Tina glares at her, but Leta merely grins back knowingly. She reminds her of the Cheshire cat. Tina can’t let go. She refuses.

“I will keep you,” Leta tells her, “like a tooth of arsenic. I will crush you and when I desire it, you will destroy me.”

Tina sticks her chin up, stubborn and defiant. She watches a single bead of sweat trail down the tip of Leta’s nose and settle into her Cupid’s bow. A dark haze encloses her field of vision. With a final breath, Tina chooses. “I’d rather be dead than keep you inside of me.” She hears Leta mutter a healing spell as the smoke in the room clears.

“Begin again,” Leta says impishly. Tina crushes burnt rosemary buds with the heel of her hand. Leta reaches beneath the thin, white fabric of Tina’s shirt and traces the new disfigurement that stretches across her torso. Tina shivers. “You have a scar, here,” she echoes, caressing every syllable. Deneb shines brightly.


End file.
